ing idea of its elevation by the time which the sun's light takes in descending from its summit to the sea.* pleasure which I had not for a long time The horizon was in a blaze: a globe Having arrived near a mass of snow which filled one of the narrow passes of the mountain, a summit which looked black in the sky, made me believe that There is no sight in the world which I was at the end of the journey; an old tower which I took for the Torre del can equal this: the point of Calabria, I the sea which separates it from Sicily, Filosofo, confirmed me in my error. soon after perceived another summit the mountains of Southern Italy, even covered with a whitish smoke; I asked the clouds which covered them, seemed if it was much higher than the other: to be at your feet. my guide affirmed that it was, and he was in the right, for it seemed to me to surpass the first in the whole height of Vesuvius. The road became more united, and the acclivity gentler, but the wind was very violent, and the cold as sharp as it is with you in winter. We coasted along a torrent of black lava, the more singular, as its elevation was from eight to ten feet, and perpendicular like a wall, which clearly proved to me, that this matter, in flowing, is not in perfect fusion; as a great part of the substances which it drags along, are sufficiently hard to prevent their melting, and that they are like the basalt, detached from the immense vaults which during many ages supported this natural forge. The sky began to adorn it self in the east, and we perceived the house called Les Anglais. You have generally the key of this hut; but not having sent a shilling, with my request, to the person it belonged to, or rather to his domestic, we entered into the stable, where we kindled the charcoal which we had brought, and I can assure you, that I experienced there a I do not exactly know how it can be explained, why the sun appears lengthened in the fog, if it is not by the pressure which each bed of the latter produces on the one under it; the stars appeared brilliant and numerous, and the moon was small but bright. I have already more than once remarked this effect in the most elevated places, which I attribute to the rarefaction of the air diverging a little the luminous rays. The mule-driver remaining with our beasts, I bent my steps towards the * In returning from Alexandria to Marseilles in the month of March, I saw Etna covered with snow. A calm having lasted some hours, I profited by it to take the height of this mountain. With the aid of a mariner's compass, 1 perceived that the Cape SpartiVento, in Calabria, reached us by the N.N.E., and Cape Passaro, in Sicily, by the S.W.; I was then sure of the point where I found myself on the chart. (We made use on board of the French charts of the Mediterranean, which are very good.) This point being at a clistance of 60 miles from the foot of the axis of Etna, I measured at that time the angle which the summit of the mountain made with the horizon; it was found to be 6 degrees; which gave me a rectangular triangle of which I knew a side and the three angles, the one degrees, and the third of 84 degrees. The base being of 60 miles, right the other of there remained for me only to make the following proportion : Sin, 84°: 66 miles: Sin. 6° : 424 The result is found to be, for the axis side of Etna, 4 miles and 24-84ths, (above 4 miles and a quarter,) or about 20,400 feet for the total height. This measure is not perhaps perfectly correct, but, at least, it approximates very near to it. If this height appears surprising, we ought to consider that other great mountains have never been measured but with the barometer, and that Mr. Brydone was surprised to see the mercury here, descending nearly two inches lower than on the summit of the Alps, 1 last summit, which, covered with a light white smoke, seemed to move away from the impatient traveller. We walked nearly a mile on an almost horizontal lava, or to speak more correctly, on striated scoriæ, or dross, which made a cracking noise under our feet, and soon after on a large swamp of snow, where we found a large round stone, three feet in diameter, of the species of those called volcanic balls, which the mountain throws up in great eruptions; but it is only a grain of metal in comparison with the volcano, which ejected it from its bosom. In fine, we mounted the last cone which supports the crater; the ashes and the stones slipping under our feet. The cold was excessive, but exercise kept us warm; I quitted my cloak, and rolling up in it some pieces of lava, I left it on the mountain. My guide, in order to repose himself, invited me at every moment to enjoy the view which presented itself. At last we arrived on the borders of the crater; but the wind was so violent, that I could scarcely cast a glance over. I was thrown down, and had it not been for my ciceroni, I might have rolled to the foot of the declivity which had given us so much trouble to ascend. Fastening and lying down on the ridge of the crater, I considered it at my ease, and braved the fury of Eolus and Vulcan. It is a vast aperture having four sum mits of different heights, rather more than a mile in width, and on account of its inequalities, I should think it about four in circumference. It is divided into two craters, by a cone rising from it centre, and which forms a crater itself, the slope of which is not very rapid. The antient aperture is united to this cone by a gentle declivity where has probably been formed, within a recent period, a small crater, a partial volcano, a perfect truncated cone, from whence issues a great quantity of smoke. The general aspect of the crater is much less dreary than that of Vesuvius; the substances surrounding it are not so black, but have rather the colour of potter's earth. It is now (1819) six years since Etna has made an eruption, but it has given concussions which have alarmed the inhabitants of Catania and overthrown some houses. I attribute its silence and its tranquillity, not to the extinction of the fires, for they still rage in its bosom, but to the great vacuum which must necessarily exist under this enormous vault. The whole of the mountain being formed only by what it has seized and driven out of the bowels of the earth, we might reasonably think that an interior vacuum, perhaps equal to the half of the exterior mass, must exist; at least that it is not filled with water as some persons have believed. However this may be, it appears that in great eruptions, all the cones, all the partial volcanoes formed in the crater, are thrown to the outside; which must then make a frightful aperture by its extent and profundity. I don't know whether, when this cone is considerably enlarged, its weight alone makes it fall into the gulph, the vaults of which have no longer the force to sustain it, or whether the eruption suffices to cause this displacement. This question can never be well decided; for it would then require that chance should place an observer on the borders of the crater, and in that case, he would run a great risk never to be able to relate what he had seen. How can I describe to you the immense panorama which developed itself before my eyes! The whole of Sicily was encircled round Etna, which its own grandeur insulates from every thing that surrounds it; the other mountains, rivers, woods and plains, are simply traced on a map extended at my feet. Calabria, from which a small canal alone separates us, is only a point of land, which is almost lost between the two seas. Farther off is Greece, but I could not see it. The point which is distinguished to the south, in the midst of the immensity of waters, is Malta, that bulwark of christianity, that rock on which split the glory of the Ottoman arms. I fancied I saw those numerous fleets,and those brave knights who manned them, ploughing the liquid plains; first I admired them, and soon I made the sad reflection that all were dead, that generations had succeeded them, and that man is as small in time as in space. I was assured that we might see the coast of Africa; but the weather was very foggy, and I could not perceive it. One thing struck me, altho' it was only a very simple effect of the perspective, and this was the inclined plane which the sea presented towards me. In that moment, when the sun rises to render life to so many creatures, so many towns which are only a point in the extent embraced by the eye, I was truly enraptured to find myself in the centre of so vast a panorama. Of how many successive beds of lava and ashes is this mountain formed? How many generations has it seen? With how many eruptions has it alarmed the va rious inhabitants, of which we have not even an idea? I could not make the entire tour of the crater on account of the violence of the wind, which prevented me also from descending into the interior, which appeared to me less rapid than that of Vesuvius. It is when seated on the borders of the crater, that we may look down from one side into the rugged flanks of the mountain, and from the other on an immense horizon; it is then, I say, that one is tempted to reason on the nature of volcanoes. I passed in review the various systems with which I was conversant, and I am forced to confess that each of them presents difficulties. I claim your indulgence for the reading of this letter: it is already very long, I shall notwithstanding explain to you the ideas which the sight of Vesuvius and Etna has left on my mind. Volcanoes are certainly the most surprising objects we meet with on the surface of our globe. Allow me to suppose that one man alone inhabits it; that he walks about in his domains; where will he find fire unless a thunder-bolt falls under his feet, or that he arrives near to a volcano, near to Etna for instance? We may judge of his astonishment at the sight of a mountain different from all others. Huge stones, of which the whole is the true image of chaos, would at first appear to him a barrier to his arriving at the summit; but a deafening noise is heard, the entire mountain roars, a thick cloud of smoke rises up and becomes white, a light, of which he cannot conceive the cause, covers the top and escapes in sparkling sheafs; if curiosity has triumphed over his fear, he braves all obstacles, he traverses the snow, and at last he arrives at the summit. Some red hot stones are still strewed under his feet; should he lay hold of one, what will hé think of the pain he experiences? Without doubt he will attribute the cause to some evil genius, to some being. superior to his nature and inhabiting these places; thus of how many mythological tales has Etna been the theatre! It was there that were found the forges of Vulcan, the cavern of the terrible Polyphemus that monstrous Cyclop, from whose voracity Ulysses had so much difficulty in escaping; the people believe still that Etna is the sojourn of demons-a door of hell. It was with great regret that I quitted a spot where I breathed, I thought, with more freedom than in any other part of the world. Having arrived at the Maison des Anglais, I there finished my breakfast and amused myself in designing. You perceive from thence in the south-east, a tower which is detached in the sky, and which is called the Philosopher's Tower; it is a small square heap of stones and bricks which have been elevated on the ruins of a more ancient edifice, and which was primitively constructed for the philosopher Empedocles of Agrigentum, who wishing to retire from the world and give himself up to reflection, established himself there. He might have chosen, it appears, a place less exposed to the wind, for it was on the top of one of these papillæ, so young in comparison with the mountain, but which have notwithstanding, seen so many generations pass away. It is said, that wishing to have it believed that he had been carried away by the gods, he precipitated himself into the crater, and that the latter, an unfaithful repository of the remains of this madman, vomited his brass sandals, which were found on the borders of the crater. In a little time we arrived in the temperate region; the road became difficult, and the fatigue became overwhelming for my beast and for myself. Near the middle of the forest is the cavern of goats; it is a vacant space under an ancient torrent of lava; it is 20 feet wide but very few in depth. This forest contains oaks from 20 to 30 feet round, but their exportation is very difficult; I should have even thought it impossible if I had not met with a square piece transported on rollers, gliding on two rafters successively placed on the lava. We afterwards entered into the vast torrent of lava which flowed from Monte Rosse; the heat of the sun became insupportable. I entered into the torrid zone, and again put on my summer clothing. This Etna is truly an image of the earth; it may be compared to one of the two hemispheres, of the north or of the south; its icy summit resembles the pole, and is not susceptible of culture; its temperate zone, on the contrary, presents the finest vegetation. If I were to remain longer in Sicily, I should conduct you into the immense valley of Bova, and should exhibit to you the famous chesnut-tree of a hundred horses, which no longer satisfies the curious, because it is separated into five different trunks, which it is said are joined at their roots. I am about to set out for Syracuse. Adieu ! HYMN TO SPRING. THOU virgin bliss the seasons bring, I long to hail thee, gentle Spring, That rose-bud cheek, that sunlit eye, Which zephyrs wave each minute by Oh how I wait thy reign begun, When songs are sung from every tree, When plains a carpet spread for thee, And strew thy way with flowers. Ah! I do long that day to see To look upon those eyes of blue I long to press that glowing breast, And, oh! I wait those smiles to see, Oh! urge the surly Winter by, Whose suns creep shyly down the sky Oh! bring thy suns, and brighter days, Which, lover-like, de'ight To hasten on their morning ways, And loth retire at night, Oh! hasten on, thou lovely Spring; Thy mantle o'er thy shoulders bring, Thy herald flower, in many a place, While chill winds nip his crimpled face, Then come; and while my heart is warm, Led onward by thy lovely arm I'll hie me through the dew; Or meet thy noon-day's sober wind And weave a wreath, of those I find, JOHN CLARE. THE KING OF THE PEAK, A DERBYSHIRE TALE. What time the bird wakes in its bower, With a downcast look, and pondering mood; And cleft a stone at a stroke in two- (Old Derbyshire Rhyme of Dora Vernon. THOSE who have never seen Had don Hall, the ancient residence of the Vernons of Derbyshire, can have but an imperfect notion of the golden days of old England. Though now deserted and dilapidated-its halls silent-the sacred bell of its chapel mute -though its tables no longer send up the cheering smell of roasted boars, and spitted oxen-though the music and the voice of the minstrel are silenced, and the light foot of the dancer no longer sounds on the floor-though no gentle knights and gentler dames go trooping hand in hand, and whispering among the twilight groves-and the portal no longer sends out its shining helms, and its barbed steeds;-where is the place that can recal the stately hospitality and glory of former times, like the Hall of OLD HADDON ? It happened on a summer evening, when I was a boy, that several curious people had seated themselves on a little round knoll near the gate of Haddon Hall: and their talk was of the Vernons, the Cavendishes, the Manners, and many old names once renowned in Derbyshire. I had fastened myself to Then "Ah! dame Foljambe," said an old husbandman, whose hair was whitened by acquaintance with seventy winters; "it's a sore and a sad sight, to look at that fair tower, and see no smoke ascending. I remember it in a brighter day, when many a fair face gazed out at the windows, and many a gallant form appeared at the gate. were the days when the husbandman could live-could whistle as he sowed; dance and sing as he reaped; and could pay his rent in fatted oxen to my lord, and in fatted fowls to my lady. Ah! dame Foljambe, we remember when men could cast their lines in the Wye; could feast on the red deer and |